


La Pétite Mort

by Lamenta



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, bottom!fenris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:09:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5208749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamenta/pseuds/Lamenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for missingnolovefic based on a prompt from a tumblr prompt list (like, eons ago) for #10 - 'doggy style'</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Pétite Mort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missingnolovefic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingnolovefic/gifts).



Slightly chapped lips pressed painfully sweet kisses to the back of his neck and Fenris relaxed into the gentle hands that held his hips, holding him in place but without force. The mage moved, his chest coming to rest against Fenris’ back, and so did his lips, leaving the elf’s sensitive neck in favor of kissing along his jaw until he reached the corner of his mouth. Fenris turned his head sligthly, pressing his mouth to the mage’s for a slow, languid kiss.

The first gentle thrust into his body had Fenris gasp in surprise, back arching slightly when the next thrust carried a little more force, the thick flesh inside him hitting all the spots Fenris was already familiar with and finding new ones that made his skin tingle and his nerve endings sing. Lyrium-lined hands clutched at rumpled sheets, covered by bigger hands only a moment later. Their fingers entwined and Fenris pushed back against Anders, asking for, needing more. Anders exhaled shakily against his mouth, rolling his hips with the next thrust, pushing deeper into the elf’s body and Fenris moved with him, rolling his own to meet the mage’s thrusts.

Bodies aligned as much as their position allowed, the slow and sensual coupling they’d had in mind when they had gone to bed was forgotten. Their lower bodies rolled together in a wild dance, frantic and needy and Fenris was surprised to find that the loud, desperate moans that reached his ears were his own, accompanied by the sounds of sweat-slick skin slapping harshly against sweat-slick skin and Anders’ pants and soft groans as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the elf’s upper spine and shoulder. When had they become so passionate with each other, Fenris wondered, when all they had been looking for were trysts and the mutual benefit gained from them?

Anders’ lips and teeth found his pointed ear and a gentle nip was all it took for the elf. He growled and bucked against the mage when climax took him and Anders gave a choked cry in response, his tight grip on the elf’s hands bordering on painful before growing lax when he followed the elf into _la pétite mort_ , as the Orleasians liked to call it.

“Maker,” Anders breathed out, burying his face into the elf’s white hair with a content purr and Fenris hummed in agreement. He wanted to reach up, to cup the back of the mage’s neck to pull him down for another kiss but he didn’t trust his trembling thighs.

It took a long moment until Anders seemed ready to move; his movements were slow and he looked every bit like a sated cat when he flopped down next to Fenris on the bed. Fenris allowed himself to melt against the messy sheets, moss-green eyes fixed on the man next to him, whose breath slowly evened out. Fenris blinked, surprised, when he realized the mage had fallen asleep, instead of getting up and dressed to return to his clinic in Darktown, as he usually would.

Not surprising was Fenris being absolutely alright with it, although that was on the list of things he’d never tell the mage. This ridiculously beautiful, passionate mage Fenris knew he cared for more than was probably wise.


End file.
